


Firsts:  exerpts from *Confessions of a Metropolis Club Boi* by K.E.

by sageness



Category: Smallville
Genre: Canon - TV, F/M, First Time, M/M, Meta, Multi, Other, Red Kryptonite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-09-01
Updated: 2004-09-01
Packaged: 2017-10-03 15:42:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sageness/pseuds/sageness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark writes a memoir of his summer on Red K.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Firsts:  exerpts from *Confessions of a Metropolis Club Boi* by K.E.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Manda, Nando, and Nifra for hand-holding and helpful suggestions.

_Confessions of a Metropolis Club Boi_ first appeared in mid-April, 2008, and soon sold out its first run due to the media sensation caused by its explicit depiction of sexual, violent, and criminal content claimed to have been perpetrated by its mysterious author—who also purported to be a teenager at the time. Now considered a hallmark case study in the sociology of gay youth, the current volume is the first printing of _Confessions_ in trade paperback form.

* * *

_To L, because you love me anyway. And even through the wild red haze, I couldn't stop thinking of you._

* * *

This isn't fiction, and there's an obvious "don't try this at home" warning tied to this. Get that? Don't try this at home. Or anywhere else, for that matter. Also, I've changed some details to protect people's privacy. Not least of which is my own.

I don't know what it's like when other people are high—I can only speak to my own experience. And for the record, I'm not going to tell you what I was on or how you can get it, so don't bother writing Random House to ask. They don't know, and they wouldn't tell you if they did. Also for the record, I'm not on it anymore, but I'd be lying through my teeth if I claimed I didn't miss it, even all these years later. I still think about it a lot. I want it a lot. Especially as I write this. I'm back in that headspace, and at the moment I want it so bad I can taste it. Right now I don't think I even want to stop wanting it, if that makes any sense. But I don't _need_ it. I never did, really, but I didn't know that then.

* * *

The first guy who sucked my dick picked me up in the men's room at Atlantis. He just stood there against the wall watching guys piss. It was kind of a cool looking bathroom. The urinals were sort of tulip-shaped and the walls were covered in a mosaic of a dozen different shades of blue tile, with recessed lighting to set off the details. Keeping with the Atlantis theme, I guess. It was cool for a bathroom.

So, the guy's got red hair and really bright eyes and he's watching guys piss and he's got his cell phone in his hand like he's waiting for a deal to go down or something. And after I take my leak, he pushes away from the wall and smiles at me and says I'm the hottest thing he's seen all night. I said something stupid, like "you should get out more" or something, and he laughed and said I was cute. Then he rubbed his fingers over his lower lip and said, "Come with me."

I'd never had it happen to me, but I'd watched other guys do it. So I went. He led me out the back door to the alley, unzipped me, and blew me while he jerked himself off. It was really hot. He let me fuck him all the way down his throat, too, which was kind of novel. But we came and he looked at his watch, and then he took off. Said he was late for a meeting. Probably with a supplier, but I didn't ask. I wanted more, so I said see ya around and went back inside.

* * *

The first time I did a guy up the ass was later that week. He was my favorite bartender, mostly because he'd started giving me drinks for free, which meant in turn that I gave him bigger tips. One night we were talking and I guess I was staring, because he had the coolest sun-streaked afro and a wide mouth and one of the prettiest smiles I've ever seen on a guy.

He was flirting up a storm and I couldn't take my eyes off that mouth. Then he said, "I'm due for a break," and called a waitress over to man the bar. Then he dragged me off to one of the backrooms...and his kiss. He tasted like cinnamon schnapps and I must've licked every trace of it out of his mouth because the next time he saw me, that's what he set down in front of me instead of my usual. We made out until he said, "I want you to fuck me," and I nearly lost it right there, with his hand on my cock through my pants. But then he pulled lube and a condom out of his pocket, opened his slacks, put the lube in my hand, and turned around, saying, "Three fingers, baby. Open me up."

Maybe this sounds dumb, but an ass feels so different when it's not your own. I'd seen enough porn and played with my own body enough so I mostly knew what I was doing, but the inside of his body was so _hot_, even hotter than the other guy's throat had been. Maybe it's because I used condoms with all the girls I'd done, or maybe I just never took my time with them, I don't know. It was just a surprise. But then he was whining for it and trying to shove the condom at me while I nibbled on his ass cheek while stretching him. I think that's the most vivid thing about the memory, really. Just kneeling there behind him while he stood, propped against the wall, sucking a hickey onto his butt. It was a perfect hickey, too. Like a little red lemon. But by then I was leaking like crazy and he was begging, so I put on the condom and slicked myself up, and you know, he'd already come by that point so it didn't matter how I did it. So I just fucked him hard and fast and I'm pretty sure I left bruises on his hips, but damn it was hot. And so what if he was going to hate standing for the rest of the night? He could've asked to fuck me instead.

* * *

I never got into the Goth scene, but one night I was at this little sketchy diner up the avenue because sometimes nothing hits the spot like a big greasy breakfast at 11:30pm. Plus there were other things I had planned for much later that night. Anyway, I was sitting at the counter and reading the movie reviews in the free weekly when this girl in black vinyl and fishnet sits down next to me and does her best to pick me up.

I told her I wasn't into girls, mostly to make her go away. Didn't work. She chattered on through both of her breakfast tacos and three cups of coffee. She was meeting friends at a place called Stationhouse for Goth Night. Her date for the night had freaked out and dumped her when she'd admitted she already had a boyfriend _and_ a girlfriend. It seemed like she thought that was supposed to reassure me or something. Could be, she just didn't want to go down there alone. I don't know. But she insisted it would be fun, and it wasn't like I wouldn't be free to split if I hated it, right?

I didn't fuck her. Didn't let her blow me, though she wanted to. I thought about eating her out, but it seemed kind of clinical after seeing her under the diner's fluorescents. Still, I went with her to the club, which was apparently an old freight depot from back in the olden days. It was all crumbling red brick, stained concrete, stale piss, and fresh vomit. The music was too loud, and I never saw anyone carding. I would've been surprised if even half the kids there were over twenty.

Forty-five minutes later, she was draped over my lap with her skirt pulled up and her ass cheeks exposed. She was wearing an old fashioned garter belt and a black thong with silver skulls embossed on it. I don't know why I remember that. Maybe because the skulls glittered in the strobe lights. She squirmed and begged, and finally I spanked her until her skin was cherry red and she was coming in my lap. I left her curled up in a ball on the couch with her girlfriend's thumb in her mouth and her boyfriend eyeing me like a rare steak.

He got up and followed me, which wasn't my plan, but that was okay. He looked a bit like a lady doctor I used to know, and I won't go into the drama associated with that, but it made fucking him twice as sweet. We didn't wait to hunt for a backroom. He pulled me up against a freestanding archway and jacked me through my pants. He didn't say anything, just opened his pants and looked up at me with big dark eyes and thick dark eyelashes and licked his full, swollen lips. I took his dick out and jacked him, and he was so close it took no time at all, which was good because I hadn't known spanking would be such a fucking turn on. But it was, and then my dick was out and the condom was on, though I really doubt he would've noticed if I'd barebacked him, the dumbfuck. I used his come as lube, and then I was in him, shoving into him as he braced against the brick and shouted into his folded arms. I never heard him say no or stop, but I'd never been that rough with anyone before, pulling his long brown hair and slamming into him over and over to get myself off.

I don't know why I did it. It just felt right. Like he wanted it that way, and he did actually thank me afterwards. He said it was incredible. But that's when I noticed how glassy-eyed and utterly fucked up he was. Afterwards. Right before I found the bathroom, washed off my dick, and got the hell out.

* * *

The first cock I sucked...doesn't really count. The prick came in my eyes because he told me to swallow and I refused. That put me off cocksucking for nearly a whole month. But then there was this guy who caught my attention and wouldn't let go. He was only an inch shorter than me, but he was so skinny that he seemed a lot smaller. He shaved his head and had large blue eyes that just sparkled when he laughed, just like one of my oldest friends from home, and I missed her a lot, even though I couldn't admit it because I was high all the fucking time—but still, it felt good to watch him. I couldn't take my eyes off him...and that was weird too, because usually I was the one being chased, so I guess he was also the first guy I propositioned.

I watched him a while and made sure he caught me looking. Then I went up and we talked a little, and I dropped a few hints but he didn't take the bait. Finally I asked him, "Would you like to get out of here?"

"Where to?" he asked. And I said, "That depends on what you want."

"What do you want?" he asked in this gorgeous low voice that meant he really was on the same page, he'd just been playing coy or some shit.

So I leaned in and breathed against the side of his neck and said, "You. In my mouth. I want to make you come so hard you can't see." He'd stopped breathing and was leaning into me then, his chest against mine. I brushed my mouth over his face, and it wasn't really a kiss, but it was something. I said, "We can do that here, but if you want more, you can come home with me."

So he got on the back of my motorcycle and I took him home. He tasted so good, smoky sweet under the salt. I could've sucked his cock all night, but he turned out to be a major bottom, so I got to fuck him twice before we crashed and then again in the morning before he took a cab home.

* * *

It was a long time before I let anyone fuck me in the ass. I wasn't afraid. It's hard to explain. I wasn't afraid of the pain and I'm not paranoid about disease. I know how safe sex works and I know my way around an asshole. It just felt like maybe losing that last bit of my virginity was a big deal. A lot bigger deal than getting fingered while someone was sucking me off. Because getting fingered isn't as big a deal as having a guy's cock in your ass. I don't know how to explain why, but it's different. Anyway, there was this week where for days it was all I could think about. By the fourth day I'd actually gone to the grocery store and spent fifteen bucks on vegetable fuck toys. And man, it wasn't enough.

In the end, I wound up back at Atlantis late one Friday night, standing in front of my favorite bartender. The crowd was still thick so I scrawled on a napkin, "Come home with me &amp; fuck me through the floor." I folded it in half and slid it across the stainless steel bar-top to him. He thought it was a joke at first. Then I guess he saw the look in my eyes because he fucked up two drink orders and let a full shaker of Mexican martinis slip through his hands before telling me to go the hell away for a while so he could work. I came back in half an hour, after taking a long walk to cool off. The crowd was a bit less and he passed me a note that read, "I'll be free after I cash out. Find me out front @ 2:30." I looked up and he was grinning that wide, gorgeous grin at me and I nearly shot in my pants right then. He was going to fuck me just like I'd fucked him, but better, because we were going to be in my bed and there would be all the time in the world.

At 2:30 he came out, ran his hand down my arm, and said, "So, we're really doing this?" I nodded and then I couldn't keep my hands off him. He felt so good and looked good, too. He was wearing a white dress shirt, unbuttoned enough to show a cord necklace and a hint of perfect chest. "My car's up the block," he said. "Did you drive?"

I shook my head. "My place is down near the river, but not that far." He had that look in his eye as he grabbed my arm and pulled me along with him. He was parked close, thank god, and the eight minute patrol car had just passed, so we were more or less safe from a public lewdness rap when we got into the car and mauled each other. The kissing was hot and messy and he was about to burst out of his pants he was so hard. He was commando under leather pants, so I tried to be extra careful with the zipper. And then I swallowed him. It took almost nothing, and god he tasted good. Then he sucked me and it was so fast and _necessary_ that I don't even know if it was good or not.

I remember licking my come off his lip. I remember thinking how hot it looked against those dark, puffy lips and that angular jaw. He was so hot. I found out later he was half Jamaican and half Norwegian, which explains why I'd never seen anybody else like him before. Well, that, and I grew up in the farm belt. Not much in the way of exotic DNA out there.

So we got to my place about ten minutes later, and about two minutes after that, he was stripping us down and pushing me into the shower. He said he hated smelling like smoke and spilled beer after work, so we scrubbed each other clean, holding onto each other and licking damn near every part we washed. If we hadn't just come in the car, I probably would've made him fuck me right there.

We dried off and I pulled him to the bed, and at first he just looked down at me like maybe he couldn't believe it was really happening. I kept waiting for him to mention the scar on my chest, but he never did. I guess he'd seen me shove away too many nosy bitches, but he didn't ask and didn't even touch it except by accident. Somehow it meant a lot to me that he ignored it. And then he was tracing his fingers up and down my body, biting my nipples, playing with my balls, licking the side of my neck, and telling me all the things he wanted to do to me. Because that was the thing, he hardly ever stopped talking. And I didn't know that would be such a turn-on either, but it was hot, him telling me what he wanted to do, and then punctuating it with a squeeze or a bite or licking into my mouth and sucking my tongue. He was going to fuck me.

I said, "I need you inside me," and he groaned, which was just too fucking cute. He kissed me again and let me fuck his mouth with my tongue, and then he flipped me over and started nibbling my ass like I had his before I'd fucked him that first time. It was hot as hell. No one had ever done it to me, and then he was spreading my ass apart and licking in, which has got to be the hottest thing I'd ever felt. I wish I could describe it, but they just don't make words that fit. Point is, I was thrashing and going crazy with it, and I know he was totally laughing at me over it, but there's a point when you just don't care, and I didn't care so much that I ripped the sheets trying to hold still for him.

Then he shoved into me with two fingers, and I hadn't even known he'd grabbed the lube off the nightstand, that's how far gone I was. I was yelling for more and rocking back against him. Then he was ripping the condom open, pouring more lube, and pushing in with his cock, slow and steady.

I was on my knees and elbows and he was driving in deep, slow at first, and then speeding up faster and faster. He felt so enormous inside me. I don't know if he fucked me as hard as he did to get me back for how I'd done him on his break, or if that was just how he liked it. I don't really care. It felt amazing. But I swear I could've fried him with my eyeballs when he pulled out. I couldn't think, I was just so pissed. I know he was talking, but I was at that place where words lose their meaning, so I was still stuck on "What the fuck?" when he was chanting "Over, flip over, man! Legs up!" and shoving a pillow under my hips and slamming into me again. And damn, I never thought it would be so hot to have my arms wrapped around my thighs and a guy holding my calves, but it was so good. And on my back I could focus on him talking to me, telling me how hot I looked with his cock in me, while I watched him and got off on how hot he looked fucking my ass. Maybe it was the eye contact, I don't know, but it made it better, sweeter. And then he shifted back on his heels a little and made his thrusts shallower, so his cock rubbed that spot every time, and he took my dick in his hand and started pumping in rhythm, and yeah, I was fucking him back just as hard. It was so good. We both came at the same time, and it was better than anything.

At least until the next time.

* * *

You'd probably be happier if I left off there, with the nice hot sex. Because it was all kinds of nice and it was really fucking hot, believe me. But I need to say this: I'm leaving out most of where I was pretty much a complete dick to all of them. Don't forget I was high the entire goddamned time. I didn't care whether or not any of them got off, except when I had something to gain from it. Like sometimes I totally craved the taste of come. Or sometimes I just wanted a cock in my ass. And when I wanted something, it wasn't like wanting something when you're sober. There _was_ no being rational about it. I would've raped anyone of them who hadn't been willing. Maybe you don't want to believe me, but I swear I would've done it without a second thought. Without a first thought, either, for that matter. It's only dumb luck that no one I really wanted said no.

I'm pretty sure a lot of them regretted saying yes. Sooner or later, I treated them all like shit because I was high, not to mention really young and stupid. I didn't have any room in my doped up head to give as good as I got, or be compassionate, or act like a fucking human being, so to speak. I wasn't human. I was a dangerous, practically feral son of a bitch...and I liked it.

I liked it a lot.

And not a day goes by when I don't think about it. Or how fucking easy it would be to cross back over that line.

But I can't. I won't. And most of the time I don't let myself think about this stuff—what details I remember, I mean. Although, I can say that because of all this, it was really, really nerve-wracking when my partner and I first got together. I'd never done it sober with a guy before, and that turned what might've been an easy screw into a hell of a terrifying, intimate ordeal. See, I might've fucked half of Metropolis that summer, but I'd never made love before in my life. It's scary shit when you really feel it. Scary as hell. But he didn't let me run away. And he didn't run when I told him what I'd done, either. He just...he made it all okay.

He _makes_ it all okay, and these days I couldn't imagine living life without him.


End file.
